The Morning After
by Chomby
Summary: After partying hard all last night, Bakura wakes up and tries to remember what happened that night, what the hell happened to his hair and why there is an unknown third person in his bed. Rated T because of sexual connotations. MxYBxYY.


**Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me except, somewhat disconcertingly, the plot. **

* * *

**The Morning After**

Bakura felt terrible, his head was pounding, his tongue felt like it had sprouted mushrooms overnight and he was pretty sure the underwear he was currently wearing wasn't his own, it felt like it had sequins on it.

Groaning and clutching his poor, throbbing head, he fell out of bed and staggered to the sanctuary of the nearby bathroom. Fumbling around in the bathroom cupboard, he eventually found a couple of pain killers and choked them down without water, Bakura didn't think he could stomach drinking anything ever again. With the headache beginning to subside, he was able to blearily focus on his reflection in the mirror and immediately regretted it. He was an absolute mess. Thick dark circles ringed his bloodshot eyes, his face and neck were covered in the sticky remains of tiger make up and someone, most likely Marik, had thought it would be a good idea to alternately shave, and dye blue, large patches of his hair. _Bloody hell,_ Bakura thought, gingerly touching a patch that had been shaved so close to his head that the hair had been reduced to stubble. _What the hell was I drinking last night to allow this to happen?_

Last night; The mere thought of those terrible words caused Bakura's head to spin. It had been the third year anniversary of Marik and Bakura's evil defiantly not a relationship because I'm not frigging gay and stop sniggering Fluffy it's not funny. Bakura hadn't been fussed but Marik, as usual, had gone completely over the top and dragged him off for a night of villainy, clubbing and bar crawls. Because the flamboyant Egyptian had offered to pay for once, Bakura had been forced to drink any sticky concoction that was placed in front of him. There had been many, all with suitably ridiculous names like "the three legged mule tamer," "fun times with leather" and his personal favourite "two cherries and a banana," which contained neither of the ingredients it's title suggested.

Now that he was starting to awake properly, small, confused fragments of memories were clamouring to be addressed. He vaguely recalled ending up in a strip club with Marik, who was still relatively sober at this point, and another person, whose face Bakura couldn't even remember. _Well that certainly explains the underwear,_ Bakura thought. He winced as he saw himself shove the lead dancer off the stage, grab the largest pole in the centre then proceed to spin and remove all his clothes, claiming that he could do better than all the woman in the building. In the confusion that followed, he must have lost his pants and been given a sparkly replacement pair by the horrified security officials while he was dragged, giggling drunkenly, towards the exit. _No, stop, I don't want to see the next part,_ Bakura thought wretchedly, but his treacherous brain betrayed him. The scene soon changed to a different establishment, there was yet more alcohol and scantily clad women and he was stood in the very middle, on a table, surrounded by equally inebriated individuals. They appeared to be cheering while Bakura sang loud, drunken songs about long lost loves and the merits of beer. At one point, he even stopped mid song to pull Marik up onto the table with him, declared loudly that the Egyptian was the best evil partner a scoundrel could ever hope for, then kissed him sloppily on the lips. Finally, and this was the worst part, he scooped Marik up into his arms and fell head first off the end of the table so that his face ended up in his partner's lap. He just lay there burbling happily until Marik, crimson with embarrassment, pushed him off and poured his bright blue drink over the drunkard's head.

"I'm never going to live this down," Bakura mumbled, pressing his aching face against the cool glass of the bathroom mirror. "He's definitely not going to let it go. I should have been more suspicious when he offered to pay."

* * *

After staying in that pose for quite sometime, Bakura eventually plucked up the courage to re-enter the bedroom. He paused briefly to brush his teeth and splash a little cold water over his face, to give him more confidence, before going in. Nervously, he crept silently to his side of the bed and got back under the covers, being careful not to disturb anything. It was just as he was drifting off, that he noticed there was an extra slumbering body. Lifting the duvet a fraction to reveal the face of the mystery person, Bakura was shocked to find his arch nemesis fast asleep next to him. What was possibly even more disturbing was that he was also utterly naked.

"What the bloody hell is _he _doing in my bed!" Bakura shouted, jabbing an accusing finger at the Pharaoh.

"Ugh, be quiet Fluffy." Marik grumbled from somewhere under the duvet.

"No, I will not be bloody quiet until I know what he is doing here!"

"You didn't have a problem with it last night, in fact, as I recall, it was you who invited me back here," Atem said, sitting up, the covers slightly slipping off the lower half of his torso. Bakura's eyes instantly shot to the ceiling.

"I-I would never," Bakura muttered weakly.

"You did Fluffy," Marik said, all traces of sleep gone, only to be replaced with an especially diabolical grin. "You also said that you wanted to sleep with the two sexiest Yu-gi-oh characters of all time before falling unconscious with your arms draped around Atem. He carried you the whole way back here."

"Oh god," Bakura groaned, clutching his head he curled himself into a tight ball, his face pressed hard into the pillow. "I never want to drink ever again." He mumbled, causing Atem and Marik to laugh.

"If you think last night was bad, Fluffy, just wait, I have even better plans for next years celebration." Marik smirked, ducking as a pillow was launched at his head. Atem reached over and threw a cushion back in retaliation, taking Bakura by surprise. In a matter of seconds, it had degenerated into an all out pillow war and Bakura was far too busy to worry about his devious activities the night before or what untold horrors Marik had planned for the future.

* * *

**A/N: **If you made it this far without hurling your electronic device of choice away in disgust, thank you ^_^ Also, thank you for taking the time to read my humble story, your opinions would be appreciated.


End file.
